


Safe Embrace

by myrandomnesslife



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M, Mentions of Nightmares, Pre-Slash, post 3b
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-07 07:52:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1890930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrandomnesslife/pseuds/myrandomnesslife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles brings the sweater to his nose, inhaling the smell. It smells like Derek, pine and whatever fabric freshener Derek used.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe Embrace

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a fic where Stiles wears Derek's thumbhole sweater like this [pic](http://icanseeyournipples.tumblr.com/post/89704748419/cataclysmess-dereks-thumbhole-sweater-is-the) and this was the result. 
> 
> This is kind of 3B compliant au where Kate never kidnapped Derek.

Most nights Stiles wakes up in a cold shiver, cold clammy sweat sticking to his skin from his shaking and tossing and turning all night. He still has nightmares. They’re not all the same. Sometimes he dreams of the night his mother died, sometimes he dreams about the night Scott got bit. Others are more intense, darkened hazes fill his vision of him hurting Scott and Derek and all those people at the Sheriff’s Station while possessed by an evil fox, but it’s not a an evil fox that’s doing it. It’s him. He’s hurting all of his friends and innocent people and he finds himself screaming awake, his Dad barging into his room, struggling to calm him.

They’ve lessened. He doesn’t have them as often, but he’s still really cold all the time and he doesn’t understand why his body isn’t heating up. 

He just wants to be warm again. 

~*~

Stiles doesn’t know how he ends up at Derek’s loft, but he’s thankful that he still has Derek’s key that Derek lent him.

He’s not surprised when he walks in the loft to find no one there. Why would Derek want to be in a place that’s brought him so much pain?

Stiles wanders around the loft, taking in his surroundings. When he’s there he’s usually in the company of other people as well as Derek and he’s never had the chance to really look around Derek’s loft.

It’s particularly vacant of furniture. There’s a small amount scattered around the space of Derek’s loft, but not enough to say someone actually lives here, that someone has made this place a home.

Derek’s kitchen is empty and Stiles bets that if he opens the cabinets he wouldn’t find any food or silverware of any kind. The idea that Derek probably doesn’t even feel like he deserves nice things, so he doesn’t even take the time to go out and buy things for his own home makes Stiles’ heart ache with sympathy. 

Stiles goes into another room, he’s not sure what this room is supposed to be, it doesn’t have very many things in it. Stiles notices boxes on the floor as he walks to a corner of the room. There’s a closet in here too. Stiles opens it, taking in all the clothes Derek has. 

Stiles’ hands find a burgundy sweater, the fabric soft under his fingertips. It looks warm and comfortable. Without even thinking, Stiles takes the sweater out of the closet, taking it off the hanger and setting the hanger down on one of the boxes. 

Stiles brings the sweater to his nose, inhaling the smell. It smells like Derek, pine and whatever fabric freshener Derek used. 

Stiles peels off his layered shirts and hoodie, setting them down by his side before he puts the sweater over his head and sighs contently, tugging at the neckline lightly, feeling how it feels against his skin. The sweater is loose on his shoulders, but it’s the most comfortable sweater he’s ever worn. 

Stiles closes the closet door and wanders back into the open area. He’s standing in front of Derek’s bed, looking at it contemplatively. He really shouldn’t. 

Stiles ignores all logical thought and settles himself on one side of Derek’s bed. He curls himself on his side, head tucked on Derek’s pillow, it’s cool against his head, but he feels calmer, like he can stop thinking about other things. He feels a little warmer too and he’s not sure if that’s just because of the sweater or if he’s imagining it. 

Soon, he drifts off to sleep, the warmth of the sweater making him feel safe. 

~*~

Derek pulls open his front door, a take-out bag in right hand. He smells a familiar scent as walks farther into his loft and then he sees him. 

He’s not sure what to think. Stiles—Laying on his bed, curled on his side and is that his  _sweater_?

Derek shakes his head as he sets the take-out on the counter in the kitchen, watching Stiles in the corner of his eye. He hasn’t moved a muscle, he seems content,  _comfortable_.

Derek’s heart feels a little heavy at seeing Stiles in his bed, wearing his clothes and he’s not sure what this means. 

Derek takes out several boxes of Chinese food out of the bag and settles them on the counter, he sees Stiles stir slightly before Stiles is turning over to face Derek, rubbing his eyes as it dawns on him. 

"Shit— Derek—" Stiles scrambles up out of Derek’s bed, clutching at his chest like he’s naked and Derek just smirks at him, clearly amused. "I’m sorry—"

"It’s okay." Derek says, popping apart one of the chopsticks. "Do you want something to eat?"

"Really?" Stiles asks, walking over to Derek, "I mean, I can leave if you want me—"

"It’s fine, Stiles." Derek says softly, taking out a bag of egg rolls, "I can only imagine what’s going on with you after the Nogitsune." 

Stiles shrugs, scratching his head for a brief moment before he says, “It sucks. I still have nightmares and I can’t get warm.” 

"If you want to come here, you can. I gave you that key for a reason." Derek offers, giving Stiles the spare pair of chopsticks. Stiles smiles at him. 

"Thank you, Derek." 

Derek pulls the other stool underneath the counter next to Stiles so Stiles can sit down. 

"Do you like egg rolls?" Derek asks casually as he places an egg roll in front of Stiles. 

"I love them." Stiles beams, breaking apart his chopsticks and opens a box of Generals Chicken.

"Great." Derek smirks. Maybe this thing he may or may not have with Stiles could work out, whenever he figures out what exactly it is.  

Stiles steals a wonton from him and Derek scowls, but doesn’t take it from him. Stiles just smiles innocently, like he  _didn’t_  just steal Derek’s food. 

It’s so strange and Derek never thought he’d be sharing food with Stiles or letting Stiles steal food from him. It’s like they’ve come so far and now they’re friends? Kind of. Maybe you could call them that, but Derek feels comfortable around Stiles and he hasn’t felt like this in a long time. 

Derek chooses to savor this, though, looking at Stiles with a smile on his face as Stiles shoves several pieces of pork into his mouth. 

Neither of them say much during the rest of their time eating. There’s a few words exchanged in between bites of food. Derek makes a comment about Stiles wearing his sweater and Derek doesn’t miss the way the color in Stiles’ cheeks change to a bright red. 

After awhile, Stiles leaves, Derek’s sweater still on his shoulders. Derek doesn’t say anything about it. Stiles does come back later in the week, having forgotten his shirts and Derek just hands them over to Stiles with a small smile. 

He doesn’t ask for his sweater back. 


End file.
